Damaged Goods
by Nasu Hasami
Summary: Revised edition. One incident can change everything you think and believe; it can change your life and the way you see the world. It can unravel you or bind you to the past; it can make you stronger or destroy you. Even though everything is bound to change anyway, accepting that doesn't make anything easier.


**Damaged Goods (Revised)**

**By Nasu Hasami**

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Disclaimer: The characters I have used are the sole property of Shouji Gatou.

I make no profit from this fiction, though it would be nice if I did.

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Reposted for anyone who was fond of the 2008 edition

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_**Her**_

It was still kinda odd to see my reflection in the mirror – not painful – just…_odd_. It was odd to see the bluish-black curls that brushed my shoulders; to see my hair cut the same way it had been when I was a child. It was odd to notice the shadowing the altered my facial structure. But mostly, it was my eye that remained odd, almost foreign, even after so long.

I always stared at it: its peculiar half closed, half open squint; always wondered if I'd ever be able to see properly again…

I try not to think back to that night so much now – when I see my reflection – when I'm reminded of the night that everything changed all those years ago. I mean, it was _so_ long ago now, and maybe I would have changed anyway. Maybe I would have cut my hair, and hopefully, at twenty five I would look older, but I don't think I would have changed this much. And yeah, I'm pretty certain that my complexion would have changed since I was sixteen…but I don't think it would have looked like this. At least it doesn't make me shudder or cringe when I see it anymore; I've come to accept that _this_ is who I am.

I finally mustered the strength to pull out my high school yearbooks and photo albums last April, they're randomly scattered throughout the apartment now. It's not that I've got some strange masochistic tendency – _you know_ – I just like reminding myself that at some point I was beautiful…because I'm not, and it's nice to know that at one time I was, even if it was ten years ago.

I'm not really much of anything now. I guess that's why I love those photos so much more than I ever used to. Kyoko claims that my smile never changed, that it's still, '_as lovely as ever,_' and she knows that gets me every time she says it. True though it is that I don't smile as often, or as, 'sardonically,' as Mizuki is so apt to point out, but I still smile.

I smile because I can, because smiling proves that I'm still happy, that I'm still content…that I'm still me. I mean, it's not like I can really wink, and most facial expressions hurt, but I love making Kyoko laugh when I drop my head to the side and grin stupidly…but maybe, that's just because I look completely ridiculous.

Sometimes, I think about how funny it was that it happened – not that it was funny – but that it could have been a whole lot worse; sometimes I wish it had been. I'll be sitting at home, alone, and thinking that I wished I'd been killed; that I wished I'd been completely blinded. To be completely honest, I've wished that for the better part of the last seven years. Maybe not so much now, because like I said, I've come to see the bright side of things; I've come to see that I'm still alive, I can still see, and I'm still mostly me. _Me_. Kaname Chidori. Ten years ago I was Kana-chan, seven years ago I was still Kana-chan…and today, yeah, I'm Kana-chan.

I mean, if someone had told me that the worst thing that will ever happen to me will be because I will walk outside in the middle of the night looking for my cat, I would have beaten them to a pulp. I can laugh about it now, but if anyone had said it to me all those years ago, I would have hit them, or pummelled them, or called them an _otaku_…Wait, I did do that though didn't I?

If you're wondering about him, yeah, he's gone. He never even knew this happened to me. He left not long after graduation; he was just gone, again. It was his orders, I'm guessing, he never told me one way or the other. Actually, the last thing he said to me was, _'uh…goodnight Miss Chidori_,_'_ in his usual monotonous voice, after walking me home one evening. But I think it was easier that way, 'goodbye,' would have made it real. 'Goodbye,' would have made it final. This way, I can still hope that maybe one day, he'll turn up at my door, dressed in his fatigues, carrying a duffle bag, probably weighing more than half his body mass casually slung over his shoulder. Maybe a little older and worse for ware, but still really the same ol' reliable Sousuke, because that's who he is, and I wouldn't have had him any other way.

In a way, I'm glad he never knew. I'm glad he didn't suddenly reappear after it happened, particularly not while I had been in the hospital recovering. I can imagine his reaction, he would have lectured me on my foolishness, but at least I wasn't the one that was killed. He wouldn't have voiced his pleasure over that though, over me taking his advice and actually killing someone.

He wouldn't have been proud or excited; he'd be distressed and worried. Firstly that I'd seen death, and secondly, that I had caused the death I'd seen. When he caused it, it didn't matter, because it was how he survived, it was as much a part of his life as breathing and eating was, and as strange as it sounds, it was ingrained as a part of him. But when it came to me, and it was my hands that had blood on them, it was wrong…and although I might be pushing it, I think it would have frightened him that I had the capacity to do it…_to take a life_.

It's still weird when I think about it. _I killed someone_. Brings a whole new meaning to the phrase, 'gets away with murder,' doesn't it? Well, technically I didn't, see the scar? That's what I got. My life changed. Actually, I think my world turned upside down and swivelled slightly to the left. Everything was thrown off balance. I remember lying in the hospital bed fretting, wondering if the police would charge me with murder. Wondering what would happen to my life from there. Thankfully there was enough evidence to see that I wasn't a vindictive miscreant out to kill old men. I had simply been a young woman protecting herself, although I was charged for carrying the particular taser I had on my person, and _the murder weapon_, being what it was, was confiscated.

The many questions that followed were interesting: '_Where did you obtain a military grade weapon,_' _'what need did you have to be armed,_' etcetera, etcetera. I didn't particularly want to lie to them, not the police. So I told them, my ex-boyfriend had been in the military, we weren't together anymore, he'd been posted overseas, and it was something he left behind him. I told them I just felt safer with it.

Technically that wasn't a lie…I just wish it had been more of a truth then it actually was.

For a long time that was the hardest thing about Sousuke. We were friends, and we weren't friends…and I'd let him in without realising it. Then before I knew it, I wanted him as more…_much more_. I knew I couldn't just ask him for it, not really. He was a man of duty, honour, and all that jazz. And I adored him for that, I never said it, but I did. He might have been an otaku, but at least he was _my_ otaku. He would have taken a bullet for me, correction, he _took_ bullets for me; three to be precise. But that's another story for another place and time. Still, he was one of my yesterdays. And it's better not to dwell on those too much – you just end up an emotional train wreck. I of all people should know that!

Like this incident. It's one of my yesterdays…the one that changed everything, but a yesterday nonetheless.

Odd isn't it, my cat changed my world. I still have him, I wanted to get rid of him for a while after it happened but I love him…my little Sousuke. Kyoko still smiles at me whenever she's over and I talk about him, my cat that is. It took me a while but I did finally open up to her about Sousuke, and she understood my missing him, and why I so desperately longed for him, as pathetic as I was. She actually suggested the whole cat thing. We went to the animal shelter and found this poor mangy looking creature, which maybe was black at one point, but was then a deep shade of grey. He had a little pink nose and big blue grey eyes. As soon as I saw him I wanted him. It was true what Kyoko had said, looking after the cat helped me move on, and after the whole murder thing, he helped me stay on track. My little Sousuke-Cat kept me steadfast. He was my north star, so to speak. When everything was too much, I could concentrate on him: Feeding him, brushing him, petting him, looking after him. And that made me look after myself.

If you're wondering about the name, it was kind of a coincidence. He was scraggy, and pitiful, and a little on the wild side. For months he was reluctant to come near me, but he always sat at my back door when I was sleeping, watching, guarding me I suppose. At first I just called him, 'Cat', imaginative huh? Then, I was watching the news one night and he just jumped up onto my lap and nuzzled my arm until I petted him. He still slept by the door, sometimes inside, sometimes outside. Slowly, he moved closer and closer inside the apartment, until he slept next to me, curled up beside my head. That's when the name changed.

I'd woken up one night, and mistaken the cat for a mop of charcoal locks a certain someone had. I whispered his name, reaching out to run my fingers through his hair – I was a little shocked when he purred and licked my hand. But it was because he purred that I started calling him Sousuke. He changed after that. He was a happy cat, his tail always bobbing up, and he always wanted cuddles. I remember Ren suggesting something that scared me regarding him – she said maybe the cat was Sousuke. Maybe he had been killed and returned to the world as a cat. Ren does believe some strange, traditional things, and while she never really used to phase me, that did.

I became so…_I dunno_, bizarre with my cat. I talked to him, I know my neighbours thought I was mad, but I didn't care. I would get home and tell him how my day was. And my cat always wanted to check the perimeter at night – I think that was the thing that made me think there was something in what Ren said. One of my elderly neighbours lectured me on being unwed and having men in my house, _at night_. I guess when I'd call out to my cat; she thought I was calling out to a young man to join me in bed. As soon as she pushed her glasses up her nose to make her point she changed what she was saying, a little shocked at what she could see. _Yes, I guess it is a little hard to believe that anyone would want to wake up…next to this._

But there alone is another shocking change in my life. I had been an idol in high school - I knew it - you'd have to be blind not to notice it. Then after _this_ event, I'd never been sought after, or wanted, and the one time I'd been asked on a date was because my back had been turned toward the guy, as soon as he saw my face he cringed.

I was younger back then, and the scars were still fresh, so the pain was much worse. I didn't handle rejection well at any point, now that I've learnt to deal with it on a day to day basis; it doesn't bother me so much. I am who I am. There's nothing I can do about the scar, and no, I don't intend on having skin grafts to cover it up. I can't say I'm overly fond of the idea of having skin taken from other areas of my anatomy and fused onto my face…it just seems a little disturbing. Besides, although I don't like it, I am comfortable with my face. Twisted and mangled as it is, I'm still the same person, maybe a little more mature, and I'm thankful for that.

Moreover, I wouldn't be working where I am if it hadn't happened. Computer science was never something I contemplated, at all, until I couldn't bear the thought of interacting with people. I still do, interact with people that is, it's a little hard not to interact with your work colleagues, but we all have scarring of some sort. Occasionally in our lunch breaks we'll sit together and joke about each other's injuries. Ryu, he has half a face, technically. We call him 'phantom', when we have one of _those_ lunches. He was involved in a bad chemical spill at his previous house of employment, where he worked on the more practical applications of his research. Unfortunately, his blistered face was the result. He's a really nice guy, and I think his wife would have married him even if they met after his injury, I guess that's just what love can do to some people.

Then there's Sada, poor thing, hers is the most embarrassing injury. During some experimental testing of a new chemical compound she'd developed she had a rather odd reaction when she spilt some of the fluid on her hand – two of her fingers fell off - as in decayed, and slowly deteriorated to no more than be a bit of black yellow sinew on the bone. She actually had them surgically removed, we just tell people they fell off for the effect – what can I say – I always was a little dramatic.

My injury, well, it is what it is. When I tell people about it they smile somewhat solemnly and say, '_you're so brave!'_ No, I'm not. It was stupid, how it happened – but yes – it does take a certain amount of bravery to face each day. I had gone outside late one night to fetch my cat. It was winter, and apart from rugging up before I went out into the cold, I didn't think of too much else. I was concerned, it was almost ten and Sousuke was still outside. I hadn't walked too far from the complex when the guy grabbed me, I can still feel his icy fingers on my neck some nights. The knife had been just below my jaw line, I should have stood still, but I didn't, I turned, twisted and pulled the taser gun out of my pocket and thrust it into his face. _Funny_, after that incident in Tokyo, when Sousuke wasn't there, I never went anywhere without that weapon. The knife had been lodged into my neck when I turned and scratched its way up through my face until it was wedged in my cheek, just below my left eye.

Somehow I had managed to call an ambulance and the police before I collapsed. They told me I was lucky, that it had looked, very grim for some time, and that my scarring was almost entirely superficial.

Well, they were wrong. Yes, I was lucky, and yes, I know it would have looked grim. But no, the scarring wasn't superficial – they just said that because that's what doctors do – they save you, then they lie to you so you feel better about yourself. Frankly, I would have felt better if they had said, 'sorry miss, but I'm afraid what's done is done!'

It took me so long to learn that the scars wouldn't fade, not for at least five years, and even then it's not so much that they change, but that you change.

You grow so comfortable with them - you adapt - you don't realise they are as bad as they were when you first received them.

For a long time I didn't want to get used to the scars, I thought if I did that they'd never go away. I didn't want to have to learn to do things differently. I didn't want to have to learn to like hats and scarves, and other sorts of headwear I would once have cringed at if I'd even considered wearing them. I didn't want to change my wardrobe because it's better to be mistaken for a lesbian than have men cracking on to you, followed by them cracking up at you. I think that's why I started wearing baggy pants and men's shirts. I didn't go out, even to work functions, so I had no need for flimsy attractive or cute outfits. I stayed at home in my pyjamas with my cat and a tub of cookies and cream ice cream…Like I had last night.

I didn't expect anyone to come over, Kyoko always rings first, and Ren was still with Hayashimizu in Greece; Sada hadn't left a text informing me of anything she wished to do, and I knew Ryu and his wife had gone out for dinner, as they did every other Friday. I wasn't going to answer the door when I heard the light rap across it. It was late-_ish_. I was in my pyjamas, and they were a little more revealing then I'd taken too lately. Not really revealing, but they were a very snug fit, which considering I didn't do snug anymore, meant they were revealing. I had assumed it was probably one of the neighbours so I didn't really think too much about putting the spoon down that I'd been sucking on. I just walked over to the door, spoon in mouth, tub of ice-cream in hand.

I stepped with the door when I opened it, like I'd grown to doing of late, and of all people, he was the last person I expected to see. He stood there, kind of worried, then bowed and apologised for disturbing me. He muttered something about having the wrong address. I didn't really know what to think. _He_ was standing at my door, in _his_ fatigues, with _his _duffel bag casually swung over _his _left shoulder, and a bouquet of cream coloured orchids in _his_ right hand. He turned from the door and began to walk away. My tongue was stuck. Rarely am I at a loss for words, but at that moment I couldn't speak for the life of me. He was more than ten steps away from my door when I was finally able to yell,

'_Sagara…Sagara Sousuke?'_

He turned and studied my face, _yes_, he recognised me…now. He covered the distance almost instantly. There was fear in his eyes. He studied the scar intently. If this had been me four even three years ago I would have turned away in shame. But now, I stood there, and lifted my chin so he could examine the full extent of the injury. He began to apologise but stopped midsentence and pulled me into a violent embrace.

I didn't realise how much I'd missed his hugs until that point. I didn't realise how much I'd missed hugs, anyone's, I wouldn't have cared who's at that moment. It was nice to be there, in his arms, held tightly against him; it made me feel human again. Just being there, surrounded by his everything. It made me feel safe.

I can't say I realised that I'd grabbed onto his shirt, pulling myself even closer to him. The only thing I knew was that this had to be a dream, side effects from the pain killers or something….maybe there was something funky in the ice cream?

But it wasn't because Sousuke was there, in my doorway hugging me, after almost eight years.

He broke away from the embrace slowly, almost reluctantly and asked if he could come in. He didn't look at me differently, well, he did and he didn't. He looked different, like I always thought he would if I ever saw him again. And he was older, given he'd now be twenty six, nearly twenty seven. He was taller, broader across the shoulders. His hair was still scruffy but it was shorter than I remembered, so I guessed he'd finally accepted the military barber giving him a crew cut. His eyes were more intense then I remember, and he looked at me differently, not a _bad_ different, _God no_, I kinda felt like he was checking me out…and I have to admit I kind of liked it.

I offered him a drink and dinner. I mean, hey, a feast of scrumptious ice-cream might be delicious but it certainly ain't nutritious, and I probably should eat something decent myself, so it's not like it's an inconvenience? He simply smiled and nodded as he used to, never taking his eyes off me as I prepared the tea for us.

I sat down in the chair next to him at my table. I wished he was in the other chair, that way; my good eye would be on his side, as it was though, and he was to my left, getting an eyeful of the hideous reconstruction job done to my jaw. He appeared to enjoy looking at the hole in my neck where the cut started, in all honesty I couldn't help myself, I told him to poke it if it was that fascinating, it didn't surprise me when he followed through and then smiled his quirky smile at the feel of it. It had a metal plate behind it. The dimple was due to the screws that now bolted my jaw to my skull. I made a comment about being more of an A.S than a human – he laughed at that. Strange, I don't think I've ever heard him laugh before.

Strange was a word for it. Here I was sitting at my table, holding a cup of tea, lifting my head so the man of my yesteryears could toy with the war wound below my jaw line. His fingers traced the line: chin to cheek to eye. He caressed the surrounding area of my eye. Now that was a surprise, his touch was…_soft_. That doesn't say much for my skin does it? I know way back when his hands were calloused so badly sometimes it was hard to believe he had knuckles. Still, when he touched my face, his hands felt soft. His voice was gentle when he spoke; he asked me how it happened. So I told him…I told him everything. I told him that my little cat had been missing for two days straight and _that_ was the reason I went outside. Not many people knew that. I went outside to get my cat because I was afraid like everything else I've ever loved; Sousuke the cat had abandoned me too.

I told him about my idiocy in turning, that I knew I should have stood still, but when the guys left hand started to wander up my chest I couldn't just stand there. I told him I couldn't believe how easy it was to kill someone… That was when he dropped his hand away from my face and turned my shoulders so I was facing him. He proceeded to tell me through gritted teeth how lucky the bastard had been, and that if he had been the one that killed him his death would have been far less humane.

I was comforted by that fact. I didn't smile when he said it, because I suspected that had Sousuke been there either this would have never happened or, the guy would have been dead before trying to pull anything on me. His body unrecognisable if anything was left. I looked passed Sousuke at that moment. He was still staring at me rather shamelessly; gawking might have been a more fitting description. I don't know…I just felt different. Actually, I felt indifferent, and that is far worse.

I didn't feel overjoyed that Sagara Sousuke was sitting in my kitchen sharing a cup of tea with me. I didn't feel annoyed by the prospect either…I just felt numb, almost like I couldn't have cared less. I felt like a stranger was tracing the line of my jaw with his finger… It was almost like we had never known each other. I felt so different to the girl I'd been all those years ago: silly, emotional, naïve…_beautiful_.

I just felt so damn self-conscious with him looking at me like that. I wished I had no scars and that he couldn't see me and I wished…I wished he wasn't there looking at me. I turned my head away from him and returned to the kitchen, it's easy to hide behind a well-made dinner; people eat the food and focus on the flavour, not on the _hideous thing_ they're eating with.

Sousuke stood and walked over to my side, my right side. He leaned his back against the bench like he'd been in my apartment a thousand times, like he had some kind of ownership over the place. I was holding the meat clever rather harshly when I looked into his steel grey eyes, and that's when he said it to me, in such a low emotional voice I never knew he could poses,

'You're more beautiful than I can remember!'

But no, I'm sorry, I didn't melt into his arms, I gently turned back to my task, laughed at what I thought I just heard and said, and I quote, '_You're still so full of shit, Sousuke!'_

I'm subtle aren't I?

He stared at me with this dubious expression on his face, like I'd just shot him or something. Funny, I thought I was over my scar, seems not when some yesterday comes back and demands attention. I proceeded to say, rather shout, about the struggles I've faced, the things I've had to do, about all the sacrifices I've had to make, _because I'm obviously the only person that's ever had to make sacrifices_.

About how some nights, I lay awake in bed and think about how easy it would be to kill the kid that lives three doors down with the 'doof doof' music blaring at 2am. He just stood there and let me rant at him, and hit him, which was followed by more yelling and more hitting. He just stood still until I was whimpering against his chest, tugging at his shirt sleeves to pull his arms around me. He didn't… _surprise surprise, uh Kaname you just pugnaciously proclaimed your hatred of the man_.

I didn't quieten though. I pushed myself away from him and whispered,

'I'm so repulsive you can't even bear to touch me – so don't stand there all noble like and tell me I'm beautiful. I know I'm the most hideous fucking piece of filth on the planet okay, Sousuke! I know that, and nothing you can say or do now will ever change what happened seven years ago! You weren't there! You couldn't stop it, and now it's too late to turn it all back and expect everything to be perfect!'

He nodded his head and dropped it a little lower; he walked back over to the table and picked up the flowers that had been abandoned. He started to head back to the door. _He was leaving_. I didn't move from cutting up the onion I had been working on, I simply looked in the direction of the door and said,

'Lock it when you leave – the last thing I need is some scum bag breaking in here while I'm asleep!'

I heard a thud; I presumed it was his duffel bag dropping back to the floor. I never really could bring myself to believe how stealthy he was sometimes, so I can't say I was prepared for him to march back into the kitchen, grab me around the waist, spin me on my feet so I was facing him, and silence me with a kiss. The _most_ fervent, hungry …_insatiable_ kiss I'd ever experienced.

It didn't seem like it had lasted long enough when he broke away, I know, and was rather mortified that my lips followed his, desperately searching to overcome their loss. That's when he pressed his cheek against mine – scar to scar – and said, 'I wish you could see you the way I see you…beautiful, amazing, incredible…strong'. He went to pull away, I didn't let him. I slithered my arms around him and pulled myself against him. I know he was smiling. I know I was crying, and I'm pretty sure he knew it too. Maybe that's why we kissed again…maybe we both just really enjoyed the first kiss…maybe we were both relieved that one of us had finally broken the ice…and were going to get as much out of what little time we had.

It was odd, where the night went from there. We stood in the kitchen kissing for some time, I eventually made dinner, we ate together and talked, like normal people for once, and I offered him another cup of tea which he probably too willingly accepted, because it seemed to lead to more kissing.

We had retired to the lounge after dinner, and I knew it must have been the early hours of the morning when his arm snaked its way across my shoulders and pulled me into another vehement kiss. I know I only whispered it to him, and I honestly didn't think he would accept, but the next thing I knew we were together in my bed…learning more about each other, body and soul.

It was after that clumsy experience that the words slipped out, when I was lying there curled into him, our bodies pressing against each other; it was there that they finally slipped out, '_I love you!'_

He pulled me closer to him then, kissing me again, and told me he had always loved me, and that the entire time he'd spent in captivity he'd never stopped thinking about me, and that was the only reason he made it through. It was my turn to pull back, I didn't have to say it, the 'WHAT?' was clearly written on my face. _Had he spent the past eight years a P.O.W_? He kissed me again, more sweetly than ardently, and told me he'd tell me about it in the morning. I kissed him on the forehead as my cat jumped up onto my bed, purring as usual. Sousuke, _my_ _lover_, looked at the cat when he heard me call his name. He raised an eyebrow and smirked at the name; daring to make a comment about me missing him so much it seemed as though I had to find a replacement. So much for the façade of hating him! He reached out to the cat, who, obviously had rather suddenly decided to hold no prejudices and went directly to his new friend. Sousuke petted him for a bit then held him against his chest, 'how about we call you Souskat from now on…two Sousuke's is going to get confusing?' And that's where the newly named Souskat curled up to sleep, between us, kneading Sousuke's hair.

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Author's note:

So…I have been avoiding revising this for about nine, maybe ten years. It was one of those high school pieces, you know, the ones that get tucked into the dank and lonely portals of CDR, (this is before the invention of thumb drives, cloud etc), and then you find them by happenstance eons later.

If you liked this, or if you remember it, thank you for reading it again. It's probably different to the one I posted in 2008, I don't recall where I saved that one…it wasn't clearly marked. This is the original – the one from senior year – edited and hopefully a little more sensible than an angst-y, high school students mumbling rant.

Cheers

Nasu


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